Chapter Eight

 

Dean had lusted for this man on sight. Cade definitely came with his own brand of issues. He had known a few closet cases, men who refused to accept and hid in the shadows for whatever reasons, but this was the first time he’d found someone who’d denied their inner needs and desires to the point that no one suspected he was in fact hiding.

Dean released him from the kiss. “Could it be possible you’re bisexual?” He didn’t know why it didn’t occur to him sooner.

Cade stilled above him. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.” Warm fingers brushed over Dean’s chest to thread into his hair. “I wasn’t forcing myself to be with women, if that’s what you mean. I enjoyed them.”

That’s exactly what he meant. And he wasn’t sure why it irked him.

“Does it matter?”

Dean realized he’d gone quiet, lost in his own head. “I don’t know.”

“It wouldn’t matter to me if you had.”

Dean tilted his head, pushing into the pillow to study Cade’s thoughtful face.

“It’s in the past. We can’t change yesterday.”

“True,” Dean replied belatedly.

Cade slid to rest at Dean’s shoulder, leaving one leg draped over the thigh where he’d been lying. Holding him in place. Dean had no interest in moving.

“It really doesn’t matter.” Cade snorted softly. “Trust me. By the time you know everything, it’s really not going to matter.”

“What everything? I know your family, what you do.” What’s left?

When Cade remained pensively silent, Dean tried to inch away. “Are you positive?”

Confusion furrowed Cade’s forehead. “Positive?” He blinked, then, “Oh! No. I can’t get sick.” His lips pinched as soon as he’d spoken.

“Can’t get sick? Ever?”

He hesitated, then shook his head jerkily.

“Cade…”

“Look, I will tell you. I promise, but not right this second. I’m not sick, nothing I can do to make you sick, or get HIV, or anything like it.” Dean didn’t stop him when he rolled to sit on the edge of the bed, his head cradled in his hands. “It’s a big deal in my family.”

“If you’re loaded, I’m not the kind to take advantage of that.”

Cade huffed derisively. “Wish we were, but no, not loaded.”

Dean flipped sideways, resting his head against Cade’s thigh at the edge of the bed to look upward into his face. “So why don’t you tell me now?”

A shudder shook the man. “I want to,” he whispered. “It would mean everything to me if you could accept what I am.” A few minutes later, Cade straightened on the edge of the bed. His hands fisted to hang between his thighs.

“What you are? Like mixed race?” Dean was trying to figure it out, but he couldn’t. He swore Cade and his brothers were as close to corn-fed Midwestern as anyone could get.

Cade scrubbed his eyes. “No, not in the way you’re thinking, anyway.” He twisted to meet Dean’s stares. “I swear, I will tell you.”

Dean didn’t understand the underlying fear coming off Cade. Shaking fingers sifted into Dean’s hair and brushed through it. This man had faced eight drunk frat boys single-handedly. What could possibly be so bad now?

Dean found Cade’s hand with one of his own and tugged. “Get back here.” He returned to where he’d been on the bed, waiting patiently, watching. After a small hesitation, Cade followed, stretching out beside him on the bed. Dean plied fingers through the long strands of hair at Cade’s back. “If it’s that important, I’ll wait. Seriously got me curious, though.” He supposed patience was going to be a virtue with Cade.

Cade slowly relaxed, melting into the bedding as Dean soothed him. An arm stretched across Dean’s waist, holding them together. “Warm enough?” he asked.

“Mm hm.” Pale eyes were closed. His firm chest rose and fell at a rhythmic rate. The strain of the last few minutes was gone. There was almost a languid easiness between them now.

Watching Cade rest was a study in beauty. He wasn’t beautiful in the sense of classic reverence, but there was something very natural, very earthy about the man lying next to him that Dean was drawn to. Strong, rugged features were actually softened by his longer than average hair. Visually exploring the man, he took his time. There was a full moon tattoo on the backside of his upper left shoulder, a wicked portent of darkness and light in color and dimension, half hidden by a bank of rolling clouds. On any other, it would have been cliché, but the blended colors and shadowy depth in the design proved it was a well-thought out piece. It was what he had seen now that Cade had removed his shirt. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were still more lurking under clothing. Dean wanted to trace the moon and follow the shimmery mounds of inky clouds with his tongue.

That wasn’t all he wanted to do with his tongue.

“What’s that sound?”

Dean raised his head upward to listen. Then groaned, plopping to the pillow. “My cell. Mom. Since the fire, she’s been calling daily.”

“Do they know you’re gay?”

“Yes.” He brushed light fingers into the wisps of dark gold over an ear. “They’ve known since before I had the balls to tell them.”

“Was Daniel?”

“Yeah.” He sighed a sorrowful breath. “They weren’t disappointed. Well, probably a little. Mom wants grandkids.”

“What about you?”

“I’m too young for grandkids,” he replied evenly, though he poked his tongue into his cheek to not laugh.

Cade snickered. His eyes remained closed.

Dean traced Cade’s ear, watching the flutter of muscles in reaction. “I’ve been neutral, I guess. I’m not going to marry someone to have them, and I’m not going to go it alone.”

“So…if children happen after you’re comfortable, you’d be okay with that?”

Dean thought about it. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good way to put it.”

Cade’s eyes drifted open. “I want kids. Maybe not a baseball team, but at least two.” Worry darkened the gray of his eyes. “I know it’s a lot to ask up front, a lot to expect.”

Dean smiled softly. “I’d rather know up front than get hit with those kinds of life changing decisions six or even twelve months down the road, especially if this becomes something between us.”

“Do you want it to?”

“Do you think I’d be lazing in bed with a half-naked hunk without trying to jump your bones if I had other intentions?”

Cade didn’t blink, his gaze growing heated in slow increments. “What kinds of intentions?”

Dean arched an eyebrow and scooted closer on the bed. Cade naturally covered him from their touching thighs to bare chests. Strong arms looped around Dean’s pillowed head and cradled his shoulders until Cade was looking down at him.

“I get the feeling you’re going to be a toppy bastard.”

Cade grinned with a hint of evil. As though he liked that idea. “Is that a problem?”

“So long as you understand I expect a fair shake in doing the driving.” Honestly, he wanted to have Cade melted under him. The lustful dream had turned into a real possibility.

Cade hummed, divulging little of his thinking.

Dean knew this was all new to Cade, but at least it didn’t sound like he was completely against the possibility. It was all still an unknown for the other man. He hoped this didn’t turn into a point of contention. Only time would tell what Cade could handle.

He roamed hands up Cade’s sides, caressing smooth skin over ribs to grip fingers around strong shoulders. The pounding of his heart sped up as heat flared to life between them. Dean tipped his head, giving access to what the other man wanted.

He sighed, which morphed into a groan as Cade repaid the teasing kisses and bites he’d already given. Slipping a hand upward, he palmed the top of Cade’s head, encouraging him for more, to take all he wanted.

Shocks and shivers ghosted over his frame. He pushed his legs against Cade’s, holding tighter when he wound them groin to groin. Slow thrusts ground them together, languid, learning. He hoped it felt as good for Cade as it did for him.

Gliding a hand down Cade’s side, the elastic of his sweats was no deterrent. Cade grunted, making Dean smile. He wiggled downward a little to get a firm grip. Nice. Cade nipped with sharp teeth in answer. A shock the size of Canada rolled down his spine, firing goose bumps in all directions.

Cade rubbed against his cheek. There was a rasp of skin, the scrape of teeth, then the teasing of a slow tongue.

Dean panted. “Driving me crazy,” he managed between gasps.

Cade rose above him, to grudgingly roll away. Dean followed, stopping on a shoulder to study him at the sudden coolness. The other man was breathing heavily, his lips swollen from the profusion of kisses. Hesitant, Dean hovered a hand over one of Cade’s resting on his chest, to cover it and squeeze. His heart relaxed when Cade squeezed in answer. “Everything all right?”

Cade swallowed. “Yeah.” After a few minutes, he said, “Are you hungry?”

Dean held fingers in his grasp. Cade wasn’t kicking him out. He’d take that as a good sign. “Wouldn’t turn down food.”

Cade’s lips twitched. “You might. I’m cooking.”

“Why don’t you finish changing? I’ll go see what has Mom’s tail feathers up again.” Give him space. It wasn’t the first thing on the list of what he wanted to give, but Dean could wait. He did have patience. It looked like he was going to be using it plenty around Cade.

Cade rolled his head to gaze at him. Dean tried to read his expression. The only thing he knew for sure was he wasn’t angry, or running. Cade arched and found Dean’s lips for a small kiss. “I’ll be right there.”

Dean nodded and scooted off the edge of the bed, locating his shirt as he crossed the room. Swiping his beer off the dresser, he sauntered to the living room to find out what his mother needed.

 

* * * *

Cade changed into the waiting jeans and a fresh sweatshirt. When he went to bind his hair, he remembered feeling Dean’s fingers running through it. On impulse, he left it swaying loose down his back. Taking a few minutes to dress helped calm the crying need of his body. He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t sure how much he would ever be ready for, either.

A lot had changed for him in the two weeks since he’d met Dean. The first hurdle had been cleared — admitting he wanted the other man. He didn’t know if it had been a full-on case of denial or not, but the wolf had made its point. He had no idea if this situation even made him gay. All he knew was he was attracted. And wasn’t that half the battle?

He found the other man still on the phone, so he continued to the kitchen. The house wasn’t overly large, a fair two bedroom for the day when it was built. For a single man, the size of the home wasn’t an issue.

Placing his beer to the side, he rummaged around in the fridge for something to make. Heating the oven, he prepped two slabs of ribs, letting them rest on baking sheets. He didn’t have a lot of vegetables. They really weren’t what he craved, but he had enough to throw together a green bean dish.

“Need any help?” Dean asked from the entranceway.

“No.” He held up choices. “Cornbread or biscuits?”

“Cornbread.”

“Good choice.” Cade tossed the biscuits back into the fridge. “What did your mom want?” He started mixing the ingredients in a bowl for the cornbread.

“A bar update.” He crossed his arms and rested on a shoulder. “I hope they start giving me answers soon. I can only hold her off for so long.”

“What can she do?”

“Nothing, which I’ve told her a thousand times already.” He grumbled quietly. “I know it’s really her needing to be here.”

Cade glanced in Dean’s direction. “You didn’t tell her about the roof, did you?”

“Are you kidding?” He groaned roughly. “She’d be here so fast, she’d leave a wake behind her. No way.”

Cade poured the mixture into a dish, ready to bake. “There has to be some reason somebody would do that. It was deliberate.”

Dean nodded. “I agree.” His gaze went unfocused, his thoughts clearly his own. “But what part of it hasn’t been deliberate?”

“I know,” Cade replied, disheartened. “Have you had any problems?”

He glanced upward. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. People following you?” Dean shook his head. “Have you been back by Gemini’s?” Another negative. “And no problems at your house?”

“Other than being bored out of my mind, no.”

Cade grinned. “I imagine you would be.” He placed things in the oven to cook. “That’ll take a little while.”

Dean’s phone buzzed again. He rolled his eyes. “At least it’s not Mom.” He turned to retrieve the phone.

Cade heard him answer then Dean reappeared.

“So you think they may be connected? To which? The fire or the collapse? I see.” His brow furrowed. “When will you talk to them? Okay. Let me know. It’s being handled by the insurance company, but if there’s any way to tie anyone to the roof collapse… No, I understand. No…” Dean sighed with mild exasperation. “Why would I do something like that? I’m not going to chase someone down. That’s not my job.” Cade could tell his patience was growing short with the other person on the line. “Glad to know we can agree on that. I want the investigation closed so I can move forward to rebuild. I can’t do jack waiting for the insurance to sign off on it. In the meantime, I’m not making any income.”

Figuring Dean would be ready for it after that particular phone call, he withdrew a fresh beer and popped the top on it.

“Okay, thanks. Yes, Detective Gentry is working up the final report to send out to everyone. Early next week at the latest was the last I’d heard. Fine.” He tapped the phone and groaned. “Jesus H. Christ.”

“Who was that?”

“The crime scene investigator. The roof collapse created another can of worms and Kelly turned it. Someone went out not too long after we left to take more photos, and confirmed the foot prints and tire welts. I guess they saw the same things we did.”

Cade handed over the bottle. Dean accepted with a grunt of thanks, drawing a couple deep slugs before licking his lips and sighing in aggravation. “They think they have a lead on both and warned me not to go hunting for them.” He shook his head. “Like I would.”

“Who?”

“They didn’t say. All he said was they have a couple of suspects to talk to. I’ve given so many reports in the last week, I swear I could write a book. Where I’ve been, who I’ve talked to. A ton of names, people I could vouch for being at Gemini’s New Year’s Eve. They’ve gone back through those names and gathered more. They’ve probably found every body that was there that night, drunk or sober. Between them, the insurance, and the alarm company, I’m about to punch something.” He closed his eyes and growled. “I can’t tell you how many times and ways they phrased the question to try to get me to admit to doing it. It might not have been much to look at, but it was ours, mine. Whatever.” He drained the bottle and slumped to his spine against the kitchen doorway frame. He gazed at Cade with tired eyes. “I just want it over.”

Cade reached for the bottle and tossed it, then walked over to Dean to stand in front of him. “It will be.” He straddled the other man’s legs, tugging him by the shoulders to wrap him close. “Why did they think you’d try to find this person on your own?”

“Apparently, there’s some connection to the guy who shot Daniel. I don’t know what. He wouldn’t say.” He bent, curling to rest against Cade’s shoulder.

Someone from Dean’s past. Someone who knew about Daniel. Someone who knew how to find Dean. Revenge? Mistaken identity? Cade repressed the shudder of apprehension. “And they think this person is what? Coming for you?”

“I don’t know. The roof might have been coincidence and opportunity. Or the person who’d started the fire may have been watching, waiting for someone to return, and when it was me…” He sighed, slumping more. Cade knew this was wearing on the man. Simply not knowing was stressful. He remembered very well the hassle and stress Chris had been under when the vet clinic storage shed had burned down, and that had only been a loss of property, not an entire world gone up in flames.

“Did the detective think you were in danger?”

“No. Just said not to hang around the bar until this is solved.”

“So someone is watching for you?” That’s what it sounded like to Cade. Why else would he be warned to stay away from his own property?

“I don’t know.”

Cade kneaded the nape of Dean’s neck, feeling the tension in his body and shoulders. Gradually, it released under his fingertips’ ministrations. “Do you want to stay here tonight?” he offered. At least Cade could keep him close for a few hours. He really didn’t like the insinuation that someone from Daniel’s past was shadowing Dean, possibly even hunting for him.

His wolf growled quietly in answer to the thoughts. Someone was out to harm its mate. It pushed at Cade’s soul, demanding he do something, anything, to keep Dean safe.

“I think I’d like that,” he murmured sounding, at the least, a little more relaxed than ten minutes ago.

“What are you doing during the day while this is going on?”

“Not much. Watching TV, staying by the phone.”

He didn’t doubt that was boring as hell. Cade wasn’t really good with waiting, either.

“Well, let’s get through this week and see what Detective Gentry’s final report has to say. If nothing else, with being removed from suspicion the insurance should release the policy funds and you can focus on that.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for. Just something to not have to think about the roof and what happened.” Solid arms wrapped around Cade’s waist. “You were the one they almost took out.”

Cade nuzzled Dean’s temple. He didn’t gloat, but it was nice to hear Dean’s worry for him. “It’ll work out.” Eventually.